


Five

by Art3mis (4sheepongreen)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Discipline, Friendship, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 10:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21354574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4sheepongreen/pseuds/Art3mis
Summary: Brian had come to give him a lecture on his temper, he was sure of it. He tried to close the door on the guitarist but Brian simply put a foot in the door and pushed his way into the room. Roger protested weakly which was sorely ignored.
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	Five

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first ever story. I'm not a writer and english is not my native language. I wrote this in january but couldn't get myself to post it then.  
Finally I found the courage.  
I hope you like my little story.
> 
> This is a work of fiction. Keep that in mind while reading :)

The next morning came with too much light. Roger shieldes his eyes with his arm. Groaning he turned around in the bed, not wanting to face reality.

He couldn't go back to sleep. Finally, after what seemed like hours the drummer sat up slowly. His head was hurting a bit. Nothing some water and aspirin couldn't fix.

Yawning Roger shuffled to the bathroom searching for the pills. Swallowing two with water from the tap Roger eventually turned around an looked at his hotel suite.

The sight was chaos! The blond's eyes traveled over broken furniture, feathers from burst pillows to shattered glass from a coffee table.

Roger sat down heavily on the bed again and put his head in his hands.

What the hell had happened last night? – He couldn't remember...

His clothes were still reeking of last night's alcohol so he ripped them off to get rid of the smell. Trousers, shirt and socks now lay in a puddle on the floor in front of the bed. Before he got to his T-shirt and underpants there was a loud knock on the door.

Roger jumped at the noise. Slowly he put on one of the hotel's bathrobes and then walked to look who had come knocking at – he checked his watch - 2:30 p.m. in the morning.

Roger opened the door a friction and peered through the gap. It was Brian.

„Go away. I don't want to see you.“ Roger groaned.

Brian had come to give him a lecture on his temper, he was sure of it. He tried to close the door on the guitarist but Brian simply put a foot in the door and pushed his way into the room. Roger protested weakly which was sorely ignored.

Sighing the blond closed the door behind his friend and turned around. He knew Brian would scold him sooner or later and he just wanted to get it over with.

–

Brian just stood by the door his arms crossed and a frown on his face while he looked around the room. Finally his eyes came to rest on the drummer who lifted his arms helplessly and went back to sit on the bed.

To his surprise Brian came over and sat down next to him eying him carefully.

„How are you feeling today?“ he asked, „Sleep well?“

Roger looked at him stupidly for a second, not knowing what to say. Never had his bandmates asked hin how he felt after destroying a hotel room. They just ignored it and changed the topic when it came up.

It made Roger feel like Brian actually cared.

Well – he felt...

tired

sad

lonely

hurt

...and ashamed!

Of course he couldn't tell Brian this. So he just blushed when he made contact with Brian's concerned hazel eyes.

Quickly looking down at his lap again Roger replied softly:

„Well, I messed up again!“

„I mean, look at this...this fucking mess I made! Again! I wrecked the goddamn room and I can't even remember doing it. This is so messed up...“

Brian just looked at the drummer's rant, waiting for him to get it all out of his system.

This was definitly new. He'd never seen Roger act so – guilty.

Roger now had picked up a drumstick from his bedside table and was twirling it between his fingers.

Suddenly he stopped and looked at his friend with something like determination on his face.

„You should smack me for this, you know.“ The drummer muttered with his hand gesturing at the room in general.

Brian's eybrows lifted in surprise.

„I'm tired of waking up to wrecked rooms and broken hearts and not remembering a damn thing! I just need...“

What did he need?

„I need...someone to hold me accountable for once.“ Roger breathed out before he lost his nerve.

Brian still only looked at him, frown on his face.

Roger held his drumstick out to the guitarist. Brian hesitated for a moment, thinking and then took the offered implement with a questioningly look on his face. Roger just shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

„Okay.“ Brian said carefully.

He had a pretty good idea what was expected of him. He could do this. He shouldn't but - what the hell!

Well, he certanly felt a tiny bit responsible.

And Brian also thought Roger definitly deserved something - after destroying yet another hotel room.

So he got up and started walking around the room carefully. He put the drumstick to his lips thinking hard.

„So, you really want to do this then?“ the guitarist asked looking over to the hunched figure on the bed.

Roger nodded not looking at him. Brian stopped next to a small oak table that had somehow survived his friend's tantrum.

Contemplating he let his hand glide over the shiny surface.

„Well, come over here then, Roger!“ he commanded his voice suddenly stern.

Roger looked up surprised. He wasn't exactly keen on getting any closer but he had been asking for it. He would not back out now.

Warily the drummer shuffled over to Brian who had put down the drumstick on the small table.

When he was one step from it's edge Brian stopped Roger with his hand. He critically eyed the bathrobe the drummer was still wearing.

„Are you decent underneath this?“ Brian asked pointing at the billowing piece of clothing.

Roger snorted.

„Decent? Absolutly!“

He started prying open the bathrobe's belt. His hands were shaking slightly. Brian of course noticed.

Finally Roger had loosened the knot and dropped the bathrobe carelessly on the floor. Sighing Brian picked it up and put it over the back of the sofa behind him.

When he turned back he saw Roger fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. He looked uneasy.

„All right“

Roger looked up directly into Brian's eyes, blue meeting hazel.

„We'll better do this properly.“ Brian announced.

„Bend over, forearms on the table, palms flat!“ he ordered, a new strictness in his voice neather had heard before.

Roger paled visibly, his eyes blown wide. His heart started to beat hard and fast. Brian couldn't be serious.

But risking one look at his tall friend he found him watching unamused with the same stern expression as before. Swallowing hard Roger complied.

Roger bit his lip as he bent over slowly. This reminded him so much of being sent to the headmaster's office back in secondary school, it was scary. No doubt Brian had chosen this scenario preciscly because of the effects. Just how he knew it down to the small details were a mistery to Roger. Shuddering at the very thought of it he put his palms on the table.

Brian had watched his friend closely. He knew of Roger's school history and the impression it had left on the drummer. And against his friend's beliefs he had been there as well. Only once – and that had been all the experience he ever needed – thank you very much!

Brian was amazed at how easily Roger had submitted to his fate. He knew the experience had to be shockingly real. He'd seen Roger's trembling right before bending over. The only difference to school was the drumstick. He knew it could never compare to a junior cane. But Brian wouldn't dream of inflicting excruciating pain like this on his friend. This was more supposed to be a little reminder. Between friends.

Roger knew Brian didn't have a cruel bone in his body. He wasn't overly worried about the pain Brian would cause with his choice of weapon. Sure – being made of hardwood and made to hit hard, a drumstick could be a powerful weapon. Roger knew Brian had taken all of that into consideration.

But still... the familiarity of this setup was disturbing and made him tense up.

After assuming the position, Roger didn't dare move. His eyes focussed on a spot on the table.

His breath shortened when he heard Brian move. He couldn't see his friend any more and Roger jumped slightly when a warm hand touched the small of his back.

Brian licked his lips. Roger nervous energy was transmitting onto him. Slowly he moved the drummer's t-shirt up out of the way. Then he laid his hand on the small of his back, running soothing circles over his t-shirt.

At first Roger was shocked by the unexpected contact. He didn't object because quite frankly he was thankful for some comfort. He was freaking out!

Biting his lip Roger listend as Brian picked up the drumstick.

„Five!“

Roger started to tense up again but then his memory kicked in and he took a deep breath instead.

Lifting the drumstick as high as his ellbow Brian smacked Roger's thinly clad backside. Not especially hard but it wasn't a tap either.

Feeling the wood connect Roger let out all the air with a very quiet „Aah!“

It hadn't hurt very much. But being in this particular position still made it an unsettling experience.

And Brian had given him a number. Thank god for small favours!

This way he knew what to expect and five was definitly a number he could take without embarrasing himself. Or so he thought...

If only Brian would hurry up already. The anticipation was the worst part of the punishment, Roger thought.

Brian rubbed Roger's back slowly before lifting the stick again. He knew he should do this quickly, but he also didn't want overwhelm his blond friend. He took aim and smacked Roger's defenseless butt twice in quick succession.

Roger drew in a sharp breath. This he hadn't expected. Quite shocked he badly wanted to turn around and tell his friend off. But he didn't dare move his head. Frozen Roger knew he was victim of his past experiences where his teacher had made sure he obeyed and nothing else.

In addition to this his bottom started burning. The last two smacks had been harder. Still it was nothing he couldn't handle. But...Roger was getting very worried. Now his breath came out in small panting gasps.

He could feel Brian's hand rubbing reassuring circles on his back.

Brian of course had noticed when Roger's breath had changed. He didn't want his friend to start panicking so he quickly lifted his arm. Roger became rigid again. Brian knew he had to finish this so they both could move on and forget about it.

The next smack was still harder and Roger gasped again.

Damn, this actually hurt!

One more to go.

He had to make the last smack count to leave a lasting impression. Brian knew as much.

That's why he planted his left hand sturdy on Roger's back and lifted the drumstick for the last time.

Roger felt the movement and closed his eyes. Brian was actually holding him down now. He didn't have time to panic when the stick came whistling down at last.

Roger let out a pained whine. His ass was definitly burning now.

To his dismay he felt tears spring to his eyes. But all he felt was relieve.

It was over.

\---

Letting out a breath he hadn't known he was holding Roger started to relax. He still stayed in position – not daring to get up before he was told.

Brian seemed a bit lost. He'd delivered the last smack with a bit more force and ellbow behind it. To make it count.

It almost broke his heart when he heard Roger whimper. In his mind he knew the smack hadn't been hard enough to leave a lasting mark.

Still – it must have stung!

Brian dropped the drumstick back on the table right next to Roger's unmoving form. He ran his hand up the drummer's back and down again.

„You can get up now.“ Brian's words were soft.

Taking a deep breath Roger pushed himself up and stood. His arms fell to his sides. He was blinking away tears.

Brian carefully took Roger's shoulders and turned him around. He felt quite sympathetic for his friend.

Roger had not been able to blink away all his tears. He felt one run down his cheek. Almost angrily Roger lifted his hand to wipe it away but Brian was quicker. Stepping up to him the guitarist took his face in both his hands and wiped the tear away with his thumb.

„Oh, Roger, you're ok!“ The caring gesture didn't help Roger get back his composure.

„I know“ he replied, his eyes still downcast.

„Come here.“ Warm arms enveloped him in a hug. Roger threw his arms around Brian and buried his head in his shoulder.

They stayed like this for several moments before Roger pushed himself away.

Sniffing once he rubbed his butt carefully with both hands. Brian smirked and offered him his drumstick. With a sheepish grin Roger took it.

„There you go, Rog. I hope you learned your lesson.“ There was a smile in Brian's words.

„Don't count on it.“ Roger replied „And now I really need a shower...“


End file.
